It is well into autumn outside my window. The trees and bushes are already bare, but one solitary flower still blooms amongst the brambles.

In the Torah portion of Chayei Sarah we learn about our matriarch Rivkah, who despite all odds—growing up surrounded by swindlers and thieves—remained righteous and pure. Our sages applied to her the verse (Song of Songs 2:2), “Like a rose among the thorns, so is my beloved among the daughters.” From her we inherited our ability not only to survive our negative surroundings, but to thrive and attain the greatest heights despite negative environments, to bloom amidst the brambles.

The lone wildflower has a poetic beauty. But if you want a beautiful garden, you cannot afford to just sit around and wait for the flowers to bloom. There is work to be done. Appropriately, this week, thousands of Chabad emissaries—who, together with their wives, do so much to water, feed and nurture our nation’s garden—gather for the International Shluchim Conference. But it’s not just the rabbis. Each and every one of us has been tasked and empowered to tend to G‑d’s garden, helping each flower blossom, toiling until the day when G‑d will finally proclaim (Song of Songs 5:2), “I have come into My garden, My sister, My bride.”

Yehuda Shurpin,
on behalf of the Editorial Team

P.S.: Experience the energy of 5,600 Chabad emissaries and their guests on Sunday evening as we livestream the banquet from Brooklyn, New York.